


A Coward's Way Out

by Ethereal_Wishes



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ogres, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 10:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10092182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereal_Wishes/pseuds/Ethereal_Wishes
Summary: Belle tends to a wounded soldier who purposely injures himself to avoid battle.





	

A Coward's Way Out

A/AN: Belle tends to a wounded soldier named Rumpelstiltskin.

The wounded and the dying surrounded her. Her apron was stained red and her mind branded with the blood curling screams of the afflicted. There wasn't much she couldn't stomach or hadn't seen. There was always something to do at the field hospital: stitching wounds, cutting clean bandages from scraps of linen, gathering water from the river, and other mundane tasks to fill her time. She barely slept and when she did, she was consumed with nightmares from the daily horrors she faced.

One foggy afternoon, an unusual case was presented to her; a man had purposely injured himself so he could avoid the upcoming battle. A coward's way out, the disgruntled general had told her. She couldn't be prejudice, for he was still a wounded soldier, and she would treat him with utmost care as she did the others. A curtain of graying hair fell in his face, and he kept his gaze downcast as he sat on the pallet.

"I'm going to need you to lie down, so I can have a good look at your leg, sir," she coaxed gently. He nodded wordlessly, lying on his back, but still avoiding eye contact. He was undoubtedly ashamed of his actions, but she wouldn't badger him with questions. Her job was to dress his wound and send him on his way. He was smaller than the other soldiers and his frame lithe. She attempted to quell her tongue, but her curiosity got the better of her.

"What's your name, soldier?" she inquired, examining his torn ligament. The bones were shattered, and he would need a splint. His leg wouldn't ever properly heal, and he would have to use a cane for the rest of his life, preventing him from ever fighting in another war again.

"Rumple," he mumbled, choosing to leave off the other half of his moniker his cursed father had bestowed upon him. Such an ugly and loathsome title to afflict a young child with.

"Rumple," she beamed, bringing sunshine to his gloomy day. He knew she was only being kind, and he should have kept his mouth shut, but he couldn't resist engaging in a conversation with this beautiful young woman.

"And what's your name?" he stammered, hoping she didn't deem him too chatty.

"My name is, Belle, but I loathe it. It reminds me of the resounding of a church bell or something ringing obnoxiously," she remarked distastefully as she dipped a cloth in warm water. He bit back a curse as the rag made contact with his marred flesh.

As she washed the blood and grime away from his leg, he attempted to form a reply. "Doesn't your name mean beauty? I personally believe it's truly fitting," he supplied. Her cheeks colored at his statement.

"It was what my mother chose to call me. I never knew her, because she died in childbirth," she answered, cleaning away the rest of the grime caking his ankle.

"I'm truly sorry to hear that. I never knew my mother either. She gave me up. My father raised me for a few years, until my aunts took me away from him. You're probably wondering why I did this to myself, but my wife is with child, and I'm to be a father. I couldn't bear to leave my son without a father," he admitted, averting his gaze shamefully.

"Hey, I'm not here to judge anyone. My job is to aid those in need. Your reasons are your own," she reassured him, dipping her hand in a cool herbal salve to help ease his pain.

"Thank you for understanding," he said, relief flooding his features.

"You're welcome, Rumple. Now, I'm going to dress your wound. This may hurt a bit, but try to be still," she cautioned as she began to wrap the linen around his ankle tightly.

"Where are you from?" she inquired, hoping to divert his attention away from the discomfort.

"Candor. Twelve miles south of here," he said, and Belle felt her blood run cold at the mention of his village. Just that morning, the ogres had ransacked his home village, leaving no survivors. His sacrifice had been for naught.

"Here's some ale for the pain. Rest easy now. You won't be returning home until your leg is healed enough to walk upon," she told him, pressing the canteen to his lips. He drank eagerly before drifting off into restless slumber. She stifled back an onslaught of tears as she tucked a wool blanket over him.

The price of war was a debt no man could pay. Becoming emotionally attached to her patients and their stories was something she tried to avoid, but this soldier had damned his honor and reputation for the sake of his family. A family which he no longer had.

As the weeks wore on, Belle's greatest fear became reality. Rumple had developed gangrene in his leg, and there was no saving it. He'd broken out in a high fever, and she knew his time was limited. One day while he was drifting in and out of consciousness, he began to hallucinate and speak of past events which had never happened.

The tent was nearly empty for once as she sat by his pallet, spooning broth into his mouth. "Tell me the story of how we fell in love," he requested. He'd formed a delusion in his mind of them being lovers. She knew he was fading fast. She'd comforted dying soldiers like this many times before, inserting herself into the roles they'd picked for her until they crossed over into the next life.

She cleared her throat, holding his hand consolingly as the story formulated in the back of her mind. "You came to my castle, brave and ready to rescue me and my kingdom from the ogres. You said I had to come back and live with you in your castle as your maid as compensation," she stated.

Intrigue flickered across his gaze, becoming utterly engrossed in her tale. "That doesn't sound very gentlemanly. Was I kind to you?" he probed.

She beamed brilliantly at him. "At first you weren't, but I broke down your walls, and you slowly began to open up to me," she returned.

"Remember the time I caught you when you fell off the ladder after attempting to pull down my curtains?" he queried, smiling weakly at her.

"Yes. You said the sunlight blinded you, and I was determined to brighten up that dreary castle," she chuckled, almost believing the story were true herself.

"Yes, and we shared a kiss while sitting beside my spinning wheel," he told her, fighting to keep his eyes open.

"Yes, but you were angry with me, because I nearly broke your curse. You claimed you needed it to find your son," she whispered, stifling back tears, adding her own piece to the story.

"Do you believe I'll ever find him?" he asked, reaching up to caress her cheek lightly with his thumb.

"I certainly do. I believe he's right over the next horizon," she said, brushing graying locks of hair from his eyes.

"Perhaps now you could break my curse. I'm ready to be free, Belle," he resounded, his breathing becoming more shallow.

"As you wish, Rumple," she consented, leaning down to brush her lips gently over his. She closed her eyes, capturing his final breath as she released him from the trials of his existence. She closed his eyes, before draping a white sheet over his corpse. A small piece of her soul died with the man she was honored to care for. Most branded him a coward, but he was the bravest soldier she'd ever met, forsaking all just to be with his son.

A/AN: I have no idea why I wrote this. It was very unexpected, but I hope you enjoyed it.


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